HER LOWER BACK TATTOOED WITH WINGS

21 Jun

The main road through Chippahitchka becomes a highway as it leaves town on both the east and west, but we don’t think of grounds privileges as an escape risk. Despite the hospital’s indignities, despite being at the mercy of ward staff who are uneducated and often mean, only a tiny fraction of patients have the nerve and the wherewithal to plunge back into the predatory world.

 Still, a yearning to swim in her father’s pool, a desperate longing for her children, so immaculately conceived that they didn’t exist at all, or an urge to feel the dangerous textures of the world against her skin, any of those could have pushed Tiffany to leave Highcastle’s and, with a new smear of lipstick, to saunter the two blocks to the edge of town, her jeans slung low, her lower back tattooed with wings, her pants’ legs fraying against the sidewalk, her feet bony but surprisingly wide in dime store flip-flops.

 

She would have taken a position at the grainy edge of the road, where it passed an abandoned hotel and momentarily had a scenic view of swamps and woods before it fell almost to the river, passed over the Victory Bridge, and headed straight west.

     Listen you can hear them now

The angels slice into my head like crystal

I don’t need to be in the Mental Hell System I can hitchhike to the Golden State

At night I hear the waves calling

 Tiffany your babies are awaiting you Where are you Tiffany? Where are you?

              A lank hip seductively cocked, a sluttish look on her face, her lips inviting rough kisses, the top two buttons of her blouse unbuttoned, she would have extended her thumb. 

 

 –from my novel, TWO-HEADED DOG, published by Dirt e-books, available for $3.95 on Amazon for Kindle.

http://www.amazon.com/Two-Headed-Dog-ebook/dp/B007RFESEK/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1333648714&sr=1-1

    

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